


A Fair Rebellion

by LadyVegeets



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 12:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8666683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVegeets/pseuds/LadyVegeets
Summary: Family man Vegeta goes to the fair. Pure fluff. Mostly.





	

**A Fair Rebellion**

 

**1\. Breaking Free**

 

He was surrounded. They were everywhere. Suffocating. Overwhelming. The press of their bodies cloying, clinging, dragging him down like a lead weight. They obscured his vision, filling his nostrils with the stench of their sweat and the sickly sweet smell of… cotton candy?

 Vegeta’s lip pulled back in a snarl. He bristled, his body prickling with rising anger, needing to break free. The soft squeeze of her fingers on his hand quelled him. He looked at her, a calming blue oasis in the chaos of the crowd.

 Vegeta hated fairs, but he loved her more to put up with them.

 

* * *

 

**2\. Disobedience**

 

“Where’s the boy?” Vegeta grouched, looking away before she saw the softness in his eyes.

 “He ran off to the rides,” Bulma told him. She cut a path through the crowd with ease, her lithe body navigating spaces where he would have bouldered through like a ramming bull. 

 He grunted. Trunks was capable of taking care of himself, but the boy had been told to stay close, and hadn’t listened. Unacceptable. “He gets his disobedience from you,” he grumbled to his wife.

 Bulma smiled at him over her shoulder. “Funny. I was going to say the same thing about you.”

* * *

 

**3\. Tyrant**

 

They made their way to the rides, in time to see Trunks denied admittance for not making the height requirement. Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, taking the insult personally. Humans were absolute fools if they equated height with capability.

 Bulma read the growing fury on his face. “It’s a safety measure,” she assured him. “Humans can’t fly if they fall out of the restraints.”

 “Tch,” Vegeta replied, pretending not to care.

 Trunks slunk back over to them. Vegeta glared down at the boy. Considering. “…The most powerful tyrant of the galaxy was short,” he admitted.

 Trunks’ eyes widened, and smiled.

* * *

 

**4\. Uprising**

 

Vegeta hardened his face from betraying any emotion against his son’s smile. 

 “He couldn’t have been stronger than you though, Dad,” Trunks beamed.

 Vegeta’s jaw clenched. He knew, first hand, what it was like to be shot through the heart; Frieza’s reward for his uprising. But it did not compare to the way his chest hurt now. From the corner of his eye he saw Bulma cover her mouth with her hand, hiding a knowing smile. Vegeta swallowed stiffly. He put a hand on the small boy’s shoulder. “Hn. True.” At least it was now, if not then.

* * *

 

**5\. Revolt**

 

“Can we get food?” Trunks enthused, his disappointment for the rides already forgotten. The mention of food had Vegeta’s stomach grumbling. A Saiyan’s appetite was rarely assuaged. Bulma nodded, still smiling. She handed the boy some cash and he ran off towards the food stalls. Her eyes glanced to Vegeta, but he looked away before she could give him any. He had yet to demean himself with handling earth currency, and he would be damned if he was about to start now.

 A short while later, Trunks was convincing him to try a _corn dog_. Vegeta did NOT eat dog. Revolting.

* * *

 

**6\. Martyr**

 

Once fed (and not on dog), Trunks ran to the sideshows. With a full belly and the chance to see his son one up the stupid humans, Vegeta was in a forgiving mood.

 “Dad, watch me smack down these bottles!” 

 Vegeta folded his arms, his face schooled into careful neutrality as he watched the boy. The pyramid of bottles toppled easily under the assault of Trunks’ throw. Vegeta smirked. Again and again, Trunks won the big prize.

 “Alright kid, move along,” the carnie grouched.

 Vegeta shoved the winnings into his boy’s arms. “Don’t be a martyr,” he warned the man.

* * *

 

**7\. Throwing the Gauntlet**

 

The carnie shrank back, but Vegeta got little satisfaction from intimidating someone he could crush with his thumb. 

  _DING!_

 Cheers erupted, pricking his ears. For a moment sounding like screams. Vegeta glanced over, seeing a crowd gathered about a large bell. Men stepped up to test their strength with an oversized mallet. Trunks led them closer.

 “Mom, Dad, can I?” he asked. 

 “Best not,” Vegeta grouched. “You’d break it.”

 He turned to leave when the attendant called him out. “Hey, you, spiky hair! Care to try?”

 Vegeta froze, shoulders tensing. He had never been good at ignoring a gauntlet thrown.

* * *

 

**8\. Refuse Orders**

 

“Vegeta, no…” Bulma whispered. He gave her a baleful glare, not liking to take orders. She didn’t back down, a haughty fist on her hip. “Do you want another punching strength machine incident?”

 The memory caused Vegeta’s lips to twitch before he killed the smile in its tracks. He leveled her with a stern look. “I didn’t say I was going to, did I, woman?”

 “Uh-oh, it appears Spiky is too scared!” the attendant announced.

 Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, his hands twitching for the mallet. F**k it, what was one more refused order to someone like him?

* * *

 

**9\. Mutiny**

 

Vegeta knew mutiny against his wife wasn’t his greatest of ideas, but Bulma had no one else to blame but herself. She had been insistent that he come, nagging until he relented, giving up precious training to have ‘quality time’ with her and the boy. For her, he had put up with crowds of idiotic people, with nearly ingesting dog, with watching his son be humiliated for his small stature… He was due some reward for not murdering the entire fair.

 Vegeta stepped up to the bell. He took the mallet with one hand, tested its weight, and smirked.

* * *

 

**10\. Rebel Without a Cause**

 

“Gotta pay first, bud,” the attendant told him. 

 “How much?” Vegeta gruffed.

 “One dollar per shot.”

 Vegeta tested the mallet’s swing, feeling the balance. “No. How much for the rig?”

 “W-well, it’s not for sale-”

 “Would five thousand zeni cover it?”

 “I suppose…”

 “Good.”

 Vegeta brought the mallet up. And swung down. God _damn_ did it feel good to smash something to pieces.

 Bulma was mad at him for the rest of the ride home. He suspected she was pissed more that he had over paid than he had disobeyed her.

 “Dad, you’re amazing!” Trunks gushed.

 Vegeta smiled. “I know.”

* * *

 

**Bonus secret prompt 11. Boobs _(because uh… reasons…)_**

 

“You’re still mad?” Vegeta asked, amused.

 “No,” Bulma spat. Liar.

 “You begged me to join you.”

 “I thought you would at least behave!” Bulma snapped back, unhappy with how the trip to the fair had ended. Saiyans. Really!!

 “Me? Behave?” Vegeta scoffed. He sidled up behind her as she got ready for bed. He wrapped his arms about her, grabbing her… pillows. “If you wanted a man who behaved, you wouldn’t have married me.”

 He felt her lean back into him, and he smirked with victory. Perhaps this ‘quality time’ thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

* * *

 

~~ox0xo~~

 

 **AN:** Written for the November 2016 Drabble Night over on the Prince and the Heiress google community _._ 10 prompts. 30 minutes each. 100 words per prompt.

Written for all those who complain I've never done Dad-Geta before, so, here you go XD

DBZ owned by Akira Toriyama. LadyVegeets can be found on **twitter** , **tumblr** , **FFnet** , **AO3**. 

 


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